In My Dreams
by SplendidIsolation
Summary: …She takes pleasure in my desperation, mocks me for loving her…'...An angst filled oneshot of unrequited love…


**In My Dreams**

I look over to where she stands. She returns my gaze, steady and unwavering. My eyes hungrily explore her body, roaming the contours of her svelte figure. The long, shapely legs, the small waist, the graceful, pale shoulders and finally I drink in her face, that beautiful face. She notices the desire in my wide eyes, and smiles, a secret, seductive smile that makes me want to laugh, curse and cry at the same time. She enjoys it. I know she does. She takes pleasure in my desperation, mocks me for loving her.

She purses her lips, running her tongue invitingly over them. I close my eyes but only for a second. Her power over me is absolute. It renders me for what I am – pathetic. I never used to be like this. I can remember a time when I felt whole and complete; I felt the simple innocence that only childhood can claim. That innocence is no more. She has taken that as she has my soul, my body and my sanity.

Even though I'm one year her senior, she still looks at me like I'm a child; a child who wants more than it can have.

She runs her fingers through her long mane of hair. How often I have dreamed of doing the same. In my dreams, she enjoys it, she cranes back her neck and the flow of silky fire streams through my fingers. In my dreams, she pulls me closer so that my body is intertwined with hers and softly, ever so softly, her lips brush mine, sending ripples of heat through my body. Her eyes lock with mine and in them I see the same hungry lust and desperate love which I am burdened with.

In my dreams, she whispers my name like a prayer – a heavenly sound sent from the gods themselves. My breath comes quickly, panting, escaping. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, I moan, unsure of the rising inferno inside me. In my dreams, she returns my clumsy affection and matches it with her own sensual touch. Her fingers trace up and down my heated skin, each fingertip threatening to destroy my loosely held control. I carefully move my unsteady hand to touch her. She simpers with pleasure. I smile with relief and satisfaction. When our love has been shared, we cling to each other, holding tight to the moment of calm. In my dreams she loves me, needs me, she calls out my name and touches me in a way which says – I am yours, you are mine, we are one forever…

But in reality, the harsh reality of life, no such thing can be said. She doesn't love me, I know that. I can tell by her angry, guilty touch when she takes me. I can tell as she roughly pushes me down and presses her hand over my mouth. _Don't make a sound _she warns and I don't. I keep silent as she takes out her rage on me, as she pushes harder and harder, trying to find some kind of release. I don't know why she does what she does; I don't know why she creeps into my bed at night; why she is so quiet as she curls near my body, silent tears cursing down her cheeks. I pretend I don't notice, my eyes remain firmly shut. I don't ask. I don't dare. She doesn't want me to see her like this, so vulnerable and weak. She wants to remain my desire, the girl I love and the girl who holds the power. She wants to be the dominating woman who pushes me against the wall, forcing her lips furiously on mine.

At times I hate her, hate her for leaving me like this. Nobody notices the way I look at her, nobody knows how I feel, and for that I am thankful. I am glad nobody can feel my shame, my guilt, and my lust.

She winks at me playfully yet her eyes hold a challenge, _come towards me_…she seems to say…_walk over and take me. I dare you! Come on swot, one foot in front of the other and I'll have you right here, right now_

Oh Ginny! I want to say 'Why can't you love me?' somehow she seems to hear this and shrugs, is that apology I see in her face? Perhaps there is hope; perhaps one day she will look at me and smile, I mean truly smile.

"Hermione, are you ready?" I look behind me at Harry. Nodding, I turn to follow him. But I cannot resist one last glance. There she stands, my perfect Ginny, my hidden secret. Her lush pink lips might one day say what I long to hear.

But until then, I have my dreams.


End file.
